Fear & Dread
by LCFC
Summary: What happens when the hunter becomes the hunted?Warning Character Death


'**_Like one, that on a lonesome road  
Doth walk in fear and dread,  
And having once turned round walks on,  
And turns no more his head ;  
Because he knows, a frightful fiend  
Doth close behind him tread'._**

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner – Samuel Taylor Coleridge

**Fear & Dread**

Dean hears a twig snap close by and he presses his back harder against the tree, his heart pounding, he would be lying if he said he had never felt fear before, hell he had hunted so many evil things in his life and he had feared some of them, but he had never felt fear like this before, a black, inescapable fear, because he was now the hunted not the hunter and the thing that hunted him was as good as he had ever been and would, without doubt, catch him.

It is cold in the woods and very, very dark; the darkness is cloying and it makes him feel claustrophobic, trapped. He can hear nothing, no birds, no midnight sounds, there are creatures in this wood, but they are also hiding, they are also afraid, he knows that animals can sense evil and he knows they are sensing it now. His own breath is harsh, hitching within his ears and he can feel his pulse racing. He clutches the gun close to his chest, knowing that he won't hesitate to use it, either on the thing that is chasing him or on himself.

He hates being alone, always has. He went back to Stanford all those years ago because he needed Sammy to come with him, not wanted, needed. Despite the fact that Sam always wanted normal, it was Dean that needed it, Dean that needed a family, Dean that needed his father by his side, Dean who wanted his brother back, now his father was dead and he was alone again, unable to ever have the real family he always wanted.

Dread creeps up on him like a thick, cold fog and he moves further into the thicket, listening hard, there is another crack, the sound of branches being pulled back and soft footsteps, Dean holds his breath, his mind whirling, god he wants this to be over and soon. He isn't afraid of death, he realizes that it is his time to die and he almost welcomes it. He has cheated death too much in his life, not once but twice and he knows that he won't cheat it a third time. No, what he fears is the method of his death, he doesn't want it to be long and drawn out, like it might have been if Sammy hadn't found Roy Le Grange and cured his heart, he doesn't want to die in pain and despair, he wants to go out quick, in a blaze of glory, he wants..No he needs to have a hunter's death; he wants to go down fighting. A whisper in the darkness and Dean is on his feet, the gun held tight in nerveless fingers, he thinks he is imagining things for a moment, but then he knows for sure when a familiar voice says, ever so softly "Dean?".

Sam's voice, gentle, coaxing, a voice he hasn't heard for years yet as familiar to him as his own. He swallows hard, biting his lip to keep from replying, he wants to see his brother so much, needs to see him, needs to hold him tightly, like he had when he was a tiny baby and they had fled from the demon that had, since that moment, forever plagued them. "Dean!" the voice comes again, more insistent, more determined, more Sam "Dean, it's alright to come out now – nothing's gonna hurt you – I've got your back big brother" the footsteps, like the voice, come nearer and Dean presses back again, trying to hide his too large body in the smallest of thickets, feeling the prick of the trees against his back, the sting of salt in his eyes. He knows that there is, ultimately, no hiding place, he knew it from the first but it doesn't stop him trying, it doesn't stop him from holding the gun, doesn't stop him remembering all the things that had happened to him in a life that seems somehow longer and more arduous than his 35 years would suggest.

He knew from the time his father whispered those terrible words into his ear that there would be no happy ending in all of this, but he chose to ignore his inner voice and continue on his path. He loved his little brother, Sam was the only family he had left and he was determined to protect him, to watch his back, to keep him from harm. He remembered his brother's fear, a fear that he would become one of the monsters they hunted, like Max, like Andy's brother, he remembered his constant reassurances, his ignorance, his complete ability to shut out what was really happening to Sam. He watched his brother change and he didn't try to stop it, just carried on, comforting Sammy through the headaches, through the pain, through the mind numbing visions; he carried on, pretending not to notice that his brother could move things with the power of his mind, could read his thoughts, could kill with one glance; Dean smiled wryly, he had carried on until the day his brother had turned to him with bright yellow eyes and smiled, saying softly "I know what he told you".

The voice is so close now it is virtually in his ears, in his head. He can hear the footsteps growing nearer; he can smell his brother's scent, even down to the herbal shampoo he obviously still uses. Dean shuts his eyes tight and sees 5 year old Sammy running in from primary school with the drawing he did of them both together, he sees 12 year old Sammy, chubby and bullied, crying in his arms, he sees 18 year old Sam, duffel bag over his shoulder, determined to take his full ride to Stanford, to become something, to become normal, he sees his brother as he remembers him, riding shotgun in the Impala, those long hot days and sticky nights of hunting, when there was just Dean and Sam and that was all that mattered. He feels breath on his face, a callused hand on his cheek and he moves quickly, the gun in his hand imploding, the bullet, he hopes, finding its target.. There is a cry and the sound of something falling and then Dean is up and running, not wanting to turn and look, not wanting to actually see.

There is silence in the woods again and Dean knows he is alone now, nothing to fear or dread. He isn't frightened anymore and he knows now that death will be quick and immediate and that calms him. He raises the gun to his temple and quirks a smile, maybe if he hadn't been so stubborn it wouldn't have come to this, but he knows Sammy will forgive him and he'll be able to talk to him soon enough……


End file.
